SuperZERO
by IggyLuv333
Summary: Alfred F. Jones always KNEW he was destined to be some sort of amazing superhero. It's a shame that call for him never came. Now in high school, Alfred decides it's high time he finally get his dream. However utterly powerless, trouble is sure to arrive.
1. Prolouge

You know how in every comic book you read now days, presuming you read comic books of course (just watching superhero movies will do), how it always starts with a main character who was just some lame kid, or adult, completely average and utterly unimportant, and then discovers he has some kick-ass awesome super power of justice? Which he uses to meet a hot chick with some equally awesome super power, who he'll later in the story fall in love with, and a few other dudes to tag along, they aren't as important as the hero or his chick, but are still main characters. Occasionally, the hero will have some sorta anti-hero in his heroic group of justice who he'll argue with and kinda wanna strangle, but will still be on the same side with nonetheless. Chances are SOMEONE in the group is some sort of "Big-Friendly-Giant", and if they aren't, well...you're fucked. Then your team of awesome super heroes gets to fight some badass super villain who tries to conquer the world and kill you and your teammates while he's at it. The hero, naturally, gets to unleash some of his own badassery and kick his ass to the high hounds of hell (whatever those are is beyond me, all I know is Arthur is always threatening to kick me there...) though. Of course there's all those comics where the hero is alone, beats up the villain, and saves some damsel in distress, but those always seem so lonely to me so I really don't read them.

Anyways, from what I've read, that's your average, or cliché (Francis taught me that word!), comic book scene. And it's what I've always aspired to be.

But ya know what, sometimes life just don't go that way.

Sometimes instead of being an average loser all your life and suddenly getting some awesome powers, you're just born KNOWING what sort of awesome hero you will soon become, and never get your call past "High-School-Quarterback/Comic-Book-Nerd".

Sometimes instead of a hot chick with super powers who you were destined to fall in love with, you get a guy (yes GUY...well probably at least...I can never be too sure with Artie...anyways) who used to be somewhat of a big brother to you and is now your current best friend, with big eyebrows and a stick shoved WAY up in their asses and happens to be the somewhat-snobbish-school-president.

Sometimes instead of an "Anti-Hero" you get a French pervert who just LOVES to piss you off by trying to grope and molest the guy you like (though at that time you wouldn't really know ya' liked him, still pisses ya' off though...) who he's known even longer than you have and then has the GALL to hide behind you when he pisses the big German kid off a little much and uses you as a shield!

Sometimes instead of a Big-Friendly-Giant you get a little brother, with about as much malice as a mouse with it tail cut off, whose not a giant in anyway, shape, or form, and is actually the same size as you. Not to mention they have about the consistency on condensed AIR and whose only God-given power is near invisibility. I can't remember that guys name at the moment as it is...anyways..

Sometimes instead of a badass super villain, you get a giant Russian kid whose made your blood boil as long as you can remember, and whose about as crazy as bat-shit itself. (To give him the benefit of the doubt, it's his SISTER that's literal bat-shit, he's just almost there.)

Sometimes you don't have a super car, you have your Foster-Dad's ol' Ford Ranger, painted like the American Flag, with one of the Rear-View mirrors scratched, so many dents you can't even count it, and one tire that always seemed to be flat.

Sometimes you never got any super-hero costumes, just school uniforms you have to wear nearly EVERY FRICKEN DAY OF YOUR LIFE. Not that I REALLY care. I just...like freedom of expression? Whatever all I know is that after wearing the same thing for two years it gets old...

And sometimes, you never do get REAL powers. Only little things you can do that aren't very super, just plain freaky. But hey! Whatever works!

You may never get to fly, save someone from a burning building, or get your face on a cereal box next to some colorful cereal that makes Kiku want to vomit.

You may just look like the leader (AND TRUE-HERO) of some band of childhood vigilantes who may or may not need to be institutionalized.

You may never become your little fantasy superhero you dreamt of as a little kid, with all the cool capes, powers, big-boobed girlfriends, and such.

But hey! You might just have one hell of a story on your hands.

I'm not some award winning author, some amazing artist, some dude high on crack with a lot of interesting disillusion that might actually predict the apocalypse of this very Earth or which character from your favorite TV show is going to get laid first.

I'm just 16 year old Alfred F. Jones, I go to school at World Academy W in New York City, am a second year in high school, best friends are Arthur Kirkland and Kiku Honda, and am one HELL of a spectacular hero. Not that anyone believes me.

But hey! I'll show them all, when they're the ones sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of goldfish with their belts undone, reading this awesome prologue and awesomer-to-be story and I'm the one out there kicking some ass!

Let's see...my amazing story all started when...ahh yes. My first day back from winter break, when I was a first year in high school.

* * *

**A/N: Short prolouge is short. :3 It is just a prolouge after all...**

**OTL I like, stopped posting fanfictions on FanFiction and started posting them on DeviantART...I fail.**

**It's been, what, a year now since I've posted any new stories here? ^^; To be fair, I HAVE been writing, just not on FanFiction...ANYWAYS...I made a New Years resolution to actually start FINISHING the stories I start! I just hope I can do it! **

****

So to ring in the New Years, I posted this new story, which is (*cough*NOT*cough*) so cleverly called SuperZERO untill I can think of a better name~ So what do you think? Any potential?

By the way, eventual USUK (if you couldn't already tell), RoChu, and probably some other pairings, though this fiction isn't meant to be pairing-centric just so you know. If your brain is dead and you can't tell, this story is in America's-First-Person Point of View, and will also be narrated by the American himself as if he were the one writing it. And if you also couldn't tell this is set in Gakuen AU Hetalia, which is why I am using their human names.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz-sensei~**


	2. Chapter 1: Stupid Useless Snow

**Stupid Useless Snow**

You know what sucks about New York? The stupid useless snow.

And all of you out there that live in a place like Arizona or Southern California or Spain or something may be all like, "But I like snow! Snow is pretty and kind! Snow is an angel~ :D"

Well guess what? THAT'S A LIE. SNOW IS LIKE...COLD WET ICY BIRD POOP COVERING THE ENTIRE DAMN CITY! Now don't get me wrong, I love the hallmark snow in all those Christmas cards and stuff, but that's like, _fake_. At least where I live it is.

Now why this whole rant about this icy sludge? You see...if it weren't for snow that somewhat fateful day of January 4th, 2011...my life would have been SO much easier. How so? Well let's see here...going back to the time I was walking back to school after Winter Break, Mattie in tow, and Ivan Braginski and Yao Wang some few steps ahead.

* * *

"A-Alfred...could you slow down...?" My brother whispered, and it's not that he was whispering per say, he just always talks like he is. Must be that's he's too stunned at being related to my awesome hero self to speak properly or somethin'.

I laughed. "COME ON MATTIE! YOU MAKE SNAILS LOOK LIKE RACE CAR DRIVERS!" I yelled back at him. I was running, not walking, but running back to school. Not because I like school, I'd quite like the place to get attacked by a mutant alien from planet V thank you very much, but because I wanted to get there before school started so I could talk to Artie and Kiku, which since they had both gone back to their home countries over break I hadn't been able to do.

Poor little Matthew however is also a lot slower than I am, running or not. You see, I'm an absolute disgrace in the art of...smart...s...Even that statement right their seems to lack wit. Being smart ain't an art, and it's worse when things rhyme, and if Arthur read this paragraph I'd probably get smacked and lectured at at...you know, before this awesome novel-to-be gets published and ends up in every book store in the world thanks to my awesome hero-ness, I believe I'll have Arthur edit it. What was my point in this paragraph anyways..?

Oh yeah, how I'm stupid. Well, I'm not STUPID. That's an overstatement. I actually COULD be smart but...that means I'd have to give two shits about school and ya' know..._try_ and stuff and my shits have already been put into other, more important things.

But instead of brains, I definitely have brawn~ Always have, it's just never been put to use like it is now. And, if good looks were a talent, then I'd be the most talented guy in school, despite what Gilbert may think about himself (I mean, he's awesome, but not like me. I'm...HERO-AWESOME!). So two outta three ain't bad for me. (WHY AM I RHYMING SO MUCH IN THIS DAMN CHAPTER! I FEEL LIKE DOCTOR SUES... SUEES...Uhhh...what's-his-name-with-a-hat..Cat...thing...never mind...)

So yeah, um, I'm fast, Matthew's not, me running, Matthew struggling, long monologue, which takes us right back on track!

I bolted down the sidewalk, not caring how many dirty looks I received, and how many people I bumped into. As I was making my way to the entrance of the school, I tripped and fell right into Ivan. I mentally cursed, as now this meant I'd have to talk to the Russian loony, better yet _apologize._ This alone may my day turn downhill.

Ivan turned around, completely unharmed by my head bulldozing into his back. He giggled...that stupid giggle...and turned around to face me, Yao following suit.

"My my, excited to see me after the break Alfred? If you had just said so we could have walked to school together!" He smiled, an eerie sort of smile, that made babies cry and demons come out a night. Yao on the other hand just raised an eyebrow at me, probably expecting some sort of apology to Ivan as that would be the un-rude thing to do...

Too bad I could care less if I'm rude, really.

Matthew finally caught up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder to support himself while he caught his breath. "Don't...do that...again..." he whispered, between breaths. I shrugged it off, he needs to get in shape anyways, so aren't I just doing him a favor?

Ivan looked back at my little brother, creepy smile still in-place on his face. "Мэтью! It's been a while since I've been able to see you, да? Как ты был?" he beamed. This somehow made me want to rip his throat off in a protective feeling to my little brother. WHY must he take interest in MATTHEW of all people? It pisses me off to know end...well really anyone who takes too much interest in my bro can piss me off, though Ivan's the only one that truly makes me wanna choose a path different from my spectacular heroic deeds and murder someone. Particularly him.

Matthew smiled shyly, he, of course, was happy to actually be recognized by someone. You see most people, even me sometimes, have a tendency to forget the shy little Canadian (Yes, Canadian, he was born there, and grew up there for some time, I'll get into the family situation later.) since he rarely spoke or if he did, just wasn't heard. Since he looked so much like me (which he should be GLAD he's BLESSED with, ya know...) people often mistake him for me, particularly angry people who want to beat me up, so he gets the beating instead. I feel bad for him, I truly do, but...it really saves me from getting hurt so I don't know if I should stop it or not...oh well.

"It's nice to see you, Ivan. Il a été un moment," He said, dusting French into his vocabulary. I have NO idea what he just said but, I'm sure it was friendly? Knowing him it probably was. I know a little Spanish myself, I took that class in fourth and fifth grade, and was taking it this year again since I've forgotten most of it, and a tiny bit of German from hanging around Ludwig, but that's about it as far as my foreign-ese goes. Hey, I speak good old American! And that's what matters!

"我們應該去~aru..." Yao hissed into Ivan's ear. He nodded his head in understanding (he apparently know Vietnamese or whatever language the Chinese boy was speaking) and turned to us with one last creepy smile.

"Well, увидимся позже!" he chirped, waving back to me and my brother. (Man my head was spinning with all this language shit. Why don't they speak ENGLISH? I HAD TO USE G**GLE TRANSLATOR TO EVEN SPELL THIS STUFF!)

Matthew smiled and waved back and I simply nodded in a bit of a huff.

I never really did apologize.

Deciding I was no longer in the mood to run, I stormed into the school, Matthew keeping pace behind me, looking a bit embarrassed by the (as Artie would say, childish, though I'd say it's just) way I was acting. When I got inside the school I quickly took a look around, looking for one of my friends. Then I saw Arthur and Francis over by the bike rack, already having a fist fight. Oh God...

Matthew and I ran over to our friends (though I don't know if I'd truly call Francis MY friend, he's more or less just there all the time) only to see Francis with a bloody nose, and Arthur with a bleeding scratch down his arm like Francis tried to skin the skin off in that spot, and Arthur about to slam Francis's head between two people's bicycles. There was already blood on one of them, and whose blood I didn't really know. I kinda feel bad for that person though, I mean who wants a blood-covered bike with one of Francis's teeth in it. (I'm going with Francis's blood at this point.)

"YOU BLEEDING WANKER!" Arthur screamed. "YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A BERKSHIRE HUNT WITH HIS HEAD UP HIS BLOODY ARSE!"

"Oh oui bien, vous n'êtes rien, mais une putain fruité petit homme sans assez de muscle pour blesser une vache! Vous êtes très pathétique mon ami, me strangulée alors que vous pourriez faire l'amour à quelqu'un d'autre ~! Oh, attends, ne prendriez-vous!" He sang-spat back. I don't know what he said, but apparently Arthur did, because when he heard it his face flushed red with anger and he grabbed a tire iron someone had left near their bike, about to crack Francis's skull open with it, when I decided to be heroic for the perverted French mad, mostly because if Artie went to jail for murder I'd have no one to bug all the time.

"Whoa! Calm down their Artie! I'm sure he didn't mean what he sai-"

"Oh but I did, mon ami~!" Francis's smirked. He really isn't helping himself here!

"Stay. Out. Of. This. Alfred." Arthur said, shooting me a fierce glare. I probably should have been intimidated but considering the fact I get several of those nearly every day I'm not very scared of Arthur. (Though the tire iron WAS a bit more threatening...)

"Well...maybe he did and he's just an ass...(Francis:HEY! Si je suis un ASS VOUS ETES UN TROU DU CUL!) but is that worth KILLING him over..?" I said, trying to persuade logic into the angry little Brit. Unfortunately, he and logic didn't seem to be on good terms at the moment.

"YES! THAT BLOODY ARSE CAN ROT IN HELL FOR ALL I CARE!" he said, positioning the tire iron like a baseball bat, about ready to knock Francis's head off. Francis however seemed unaltered, still giving him a confident little smirk.

"Well? Are you going to hit me already, mon cher~?" Francis said, taunting him. Did this dude have a death wish or something?

Arthur glared down at him, something faltering in the ferocious look, sighed, dropped the tire iron, muttered something along the lines of, "I won't kill you THIS time ya' bleeding wanker..." , straightened his school uniform, "humphed", turned his nose up, and walked away like nobodies business. There are still so many things I will never understand about Arthur, one of them being how he can be so angry and violent one minute, and so seemingly arrogant and "refined" the next. Maybe it's a British thing?

Matthew offered his hand to Francis, for the French boy had been knocked down to the ground at some point during this whole ordeal. Francis gladly took it, pulling himself up gingerly, and trotted off, blood still streaming down his face. I sighed, not really knowing what to think of the situation. This was what, oh, the thirty-fifth physical-fight they'd had since school began, and that was in August, and it's what, January now? Apparently the tenth grade had a POOL running on who would get beaten unconscious first since it had miraculously not happened yet. I'd put my money on Francis, even though Arthur is smaller (height wise they're about the same, but I mean he's physically SMALLER, leaner, less muscly, et cetera) he has one hell of a temper and can do some good damage when he's angry. It's rather entertaining actually to watch such a fragile small looking boy size up to ones so much bigger and more masculine than he, and yet have him beat the hell out of them and have them running with their tails between their legs. Now, Arthur (except around Francis) is no violent little ruffian (as he would say), he does not pick fights with people (other than me and Francis) and he is actually quite polite. Not to mention that when not in a moment of absolute rage (usually triggered by me or Francis, wow, are you seeing a pattern here?) he's about as strong as about any person of his size. And it's not like he's some dude who acts sweet and is all evil inside with plots to dominate the world (that would be Ivan) in fact, just the opposite.

Arthur Kirkland is the sort of person who always acts cold and distant towards people, maybe even a bit angry and violent to some, he berates people for their stupidity, and has almost an outward heir of "I'm-better-than-you" to strangers. But once you get to REALLY know him he's tragically different. Anyone who doesn't know Arthur Kirkland well would laugh if he were described as, "kind, loyal, vulnerable, accepting, or about the most un-arrogant person you'll ever meet." However, if you're ever able to momentarily (or permanently, if you're really lucky, even I haven't managed that yet, though he has seemed to have thawed out just a bit) get past his outer shell, you'll see all those things flash before you're eyes. (I believe the term Kiku used was "_tsundere_", though I'm not too sure what that means, I'll just go with it I guess.)

Not that I'd EVER admit that to him.

You see, Arthur and I have somewhat of a running gag going. We will fight, insult, yell at, and sorda pretend to hate each other. It's just a lie of course, since well...I don't know...I don't hate him. I guess he might be one of my only true friends and...something else too...meh. I'd rather not think about it too much~

God, this is a long introduction-story. I haven't barely set up for the main plot! Wasn't I supposed to explain why snow is evil? I think I might have ADHD or something because I always get off on random stuff while typing! Like this one time, when I was having Christmas at my Uncle Bob's house, he's not my real uncle I just call him that, anyways I brought my computer along since it's in the woods and their isn't much to do an-

Shit I'm doing it again...BAD ME! STAY ON TRACK!

I'm hungry...I really want a hamburger...It's 3:29 pm here right now and I still haven't had lunch since I've been typing so much...

So...where was I? Francis gets up, leaves, blah blah blah...I'm the hero...okay.

Matthew and I had left the little crime scene caused by the two other blondes (the blood on the bike was drying, I think it'll leave a stain) and were heading towards the main school building. At this rate we were probably gonna be late to class. Which, certainly isn't a first for me, but Matthew seemed to be in a bit more of a hurry. He eventually sped up and left me behind, waving goodbye to me. Which was stupid, since we were in the same class, and I sat one seat behind him. But alas, I waved back, taking my time walking to class, not in a hurry to hear Ms. North go on and on about world history. I mean, I'm an American in America! What other history do I need to know beside the history of my own country!

However, I probably should have gone with Mattie to class. I should have chosen Ms. North over than what I did choose. Because I chose to ditch my first period, and decided I'd make it back for second. I walked away from the school's entrance, around the side, and towards the dorms. World Academy W was a boarding school so therefore I lived in a dorm when I wasn't on breaks. Kiku, Arthur, and Feliciano Vargas were my room mates, it's actually how I became friends with Kiku this year, and Feliciano's nice, we get along well together. I've known Artie way before WAW, so this was just fate going "You're an awesome hero Alfred, you deserve some good luck!"

However, I must have made fate kinda mad this day. Maybe it was jealous that it wasn't as heroic as I, or maybe it was just having a bad hair day. (Does fate have hair?) All I know is this day fate decided to give me a slap on the ass, and not in the sexy way.

As I was walking towards my dorm, I slipped, on the snow. Now while this may seem like no big deal, not enough to hate snow over and get mad at fate, it was. You see, right as I fell, the snow plow for our school was coming along the pathway I just fallen on. Before I had time to move, scream, or even breath, a loud crunching noise was heard, a sharp pain was felt, and I was welcomed by the blackness into sweet unconsciousness.

You know how in so many superhero stories you read, right before the hero gets amazing powers, he gets tragically injured, maybe by the means of radioactive waste or such, and this injury provides him with the powers to save the world?

Well guess what, this isn't one of those stories.

* * *

**A/N: D: Poor Alfred...You'll see next chapter why this is in any way significant to the plot~ :3**

**Sorry I sound so ADHD in this chapter, it's partially because I'm trying to keep Al in character and paritally cause I haven't eaten anything all day. But it's mostly Alfred's fault, so I'll just blame him! I tried to set up a bit of the backstory in this chapter. This chapter plus the next one are pretty much a sort of introduction. After that the action will pick up! Please stay tuned~**

**Uggh, plenty of translations in this chapter, I halfway agree with America on the English thing.**

**Translations:**

**Russian: Мэтью - Matthew**

** да - Yes**

** Как вы были - How have you been?**

**увидимся позже - See you later**

**Chinese: 我們應該去 - Let's go...**

**French: Il a été un moment - It's been a while**

**Oh oui bien, vous n'êtes rien, mais une putain frumpy petit homme sans assez de muscle pour blesser une vache! Vous êtes très pathétique mon ami, me strangeling alors que vous pourriez faire l'amour à quelqu'un d'autre ~! Oh, attends, ne prendriez-vous! - Oh yes well, you're nothing but a frumpy little man whore without enough muscle to hurt a cow! You are very pathetic my friend, strangeling me whilst you could be making love to someone else~! Oh wait, no one would take you! **

**Mon Ami - My friend **

**Si je suis un ASS VOUS ETES UN TROU DU CUL! - IF I AM AN ASS, YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE!**

Disclaimer: Himaruya owns Hetalia, because he does. And I am not him so I do not. :D


	3. Chapter 2: MMPKCC

They say the worse pain you'll ever experience is a paper cut. Yeah, well wanna know somethin'?

They lie.

**Mad Men, Painkillers, and Coffee Cups**

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Isn't that such a nice sound to wake up to?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Who knows where I am, all I know is I hear beeping. While to normal people, it sounds like beeping, to me it sounds a little something like,

"BEEP. GET OFF YOUR ASS YOU STUPID MORON. BEEEP. COME ON, WAKE THE FUCK UP! BEEEEEP. I'M NOT GONNA SHUT UP UNTIL YOU GET UP. BEEEEP. BEEP YOU, ASSHOLE! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP."

Beep.

I sat up with a jolt. Then, of course, promptly regretted it. About a million different questions began to form in my mind, 'Where am I? What happened? Why is my leg wrapped up in bandages? Why is something beeping? Do you think someone will take pity on me and give me some ice cream for all this?'

I opened my mouth to speak, God knows what I was planning to say, it just seems like if I don't talk then like...the world will...end...or something. And I, as a hero, can't be responsible for that. So therefore, I must talk.

Unfortunately, I couldn't. There was some...some THING on my mouth, that looked vaguely similar to what I had seen in all those hospital shows. I believe the scientific term is, "Oxygen Mask".

I frowned, thoroughly annoyed at the evil object on my mouth restraining my speech. You know what, fuck air, I want to talk!

However, some nurse stopped me. Now when I say nurse, I don't mean the ones in the super tight nurse outfits with the jackets unbuttoned slightly at the top to show some cleavage, and the skirts tight enough to see through, in high heels with their hair all flowy and a cute little nurse hat on, holding a big ass needle in a suggestive position. If you wish to find those then you can look in the magazine's under Arthur's bed. Or you can probably look under the _cover's_ of Francis's.

Not to say she was..what's the word...haggerd..gard..yeah...haggard though. She had dark brown hair, which was held neatly in a bun, a light blue sweater-thing...um...let me ask Arthur...CARDIGAN (Wait a second, how does he even know all these terms for women's clothes..? I'm kinda suspicious of him now...) covering a normal white nurse dress. No high heels, just white nurse...shoes. They're like white and...nursey...and they're shoes?

Bleargh, I don't like describing things! Can't you just...look into my eyes or something through the computer, see into my soul, and just...know- wait a second I don't want people seeing into my soul that's creeeeepppyyyy!

Spell check doesn't like me today, it says like half my words are wrong when I KNOW they're right, just...longified. AND IT SAYS LONGIFIED ISN'T A WORD! WELL YOU KNOW WHAT? I SAY IT IS AND WHAT I SAY IS THE LAW AS OF NOW! RANT RANT RANT.

ANYWAYS...God I have problems with writing on topic...to cut to the chase she wasn't some fetish-fuel nurse, but she still seemed pretty nice. Not that...fueling fetishes and being nice really have anything to do with one another...then again, I'm nice and I'm sure I fuel quite a few fetishes~ But that's just coincidental. ANYWAYS PART TWO..I promise to stay on topic from here on out..or at least try...

She put her hand on top of mine, and gently pushed me back down to the bed. (Did that sound wrong to anyone else, or is that just me?)

"You need your rest Alfred, and you definitely need to keep that on." She had a rather comforting voice, much like a mother talking to her son.

However, I wasn't tired and I really wasn't in the mood to be quiet. I had my questions and I wanted my answers. Especially to two questions. 'Where am I and what the fuck happened to me? And ya know...I really DO want that ice cream..' (Okay so that's three...but the third question isn't really a question, it's more or less a state-mint.)

To my luck, she answered without me even asking. Maybe she was an alien from another dimension with telepathy and the power to read minds using mind reading powers to read minds from another dimension. Oh, and she's an alien by the way. Who reads minds. Telepathically.

"You got, well...rather crushed by a snow plow, honey. You're in the hospital right now. We've notified the school and you're parents." Shit...if Mom and Dad know about this, I'll never be hearing the END of it. Especially since I was supposed to be in class. Goodbye X-Box, goodbye allowance...

Hell, who am I kidding, they barely gave me an allowance to begin with and I'm always at school so I can't really USE that X-Box very much...it's a 360, in case you were wondering. Wait a second, did she just say I got CRUSHED?

"You could have harmed yourself much worse than you did, Alfred. Your right leg is fractured and will require a few weeks to heal, and you have a minor head injury, but other than that you seem relatively unharmed." I touched my head to find that sure enough, there was a bandage. I nearly screamed when I felt that the front part of my bangs had been mangled to the point they were practically cut off, however finding some relief in that my hair curl (I call him Nantucket, 'cause they're shaped the same way!) was unharmed. Most people would be rather annoyed in having a piece of hair always sticking up, but it was somehow...precious to me. I wonder if that's how Matthew feels about his hair curl, or maybe Arthur about his eyebrows. (Man those things are like caterpillars! He won't let me touch them though...)

"Wiliowveofay?" I asked. For those of you who don't understand the mumbly language caused by having a breathing mask on what I MEANT to say was, "Will I be okay?"

I suppose the nurse DID understand that language, either that or she really was a mind reading alien from another universe with telepathic powers in reading peoples minds and- Okay, I think you get the point.

She smiled at me, and nodded, then proceeded to head out the door, to leave me to my thoughts. However my original thoughts went something along the lines of, "I'm hungryyy... I want a hamburger...Bah bah bah bah bah, I'm loving it~ Hey, do you think I can impress girls with this injury? I'll be all like, cue the puppy dog eyes, 'I was CRUSHED by a snow plow. Love me.' Then they'll be all like, 'Oh Alfred! You're such a heroic hero for surviving that! Will you marry me?' And I'll be like, 'Maybe if you're lucky baby.' And then wink at them in which they'll faint- Hey wait a minute, if I got crushed then how AM I okay? Hmmm...UNANSWERED QUESTIONS! ON THE NEXT LAW AN ORDER: ALFRED F. JONES EDITION! I wonder if I'll ever get my own show...I want a show~ I'd be all like...yeaaaaaaahhhh...I deserve to be on TV, people NEED to know that true awesomeness really DOES exist and- Hey, whose that guy?"

Sure enough, an old man was being wheeled into the hospital on one of those...wheely bed things they take out of ambulances...Gertrudes or something..anyways...he looked like he was wearing a back brace or something, and was being set down carefully onto the bed, hooked up to a heart monitor, and was taken care of from then on. I shut off my thoughts for a moment, intent on watching what was happening to him, beats me why it was so very intriguing but it was I guess.

About thirty minutes passed until they finally left the man alone. He seemed to be perfectly conscious though, letting out a sigh. Upon closer examination I noticed that he his eyelids painted red, like he had been...Okay, I don't even know why. They say it's rude to stare at people, but somehow I couldn't look away. They also say it's rude to pry.

I guess I'm a little bit rude. I believe I mentioned somewhere earlier that I really don't care though, did I not?

Not really caring anymore about the oxygen mask (if they have a problem with it they can yell at me later) I took the thing off my face, coughing a little bit, still not completely used to breathing on my own. After I sucked in a few breaths, I turned my body to face him. It appeared he also seemed to be staring at me, so I didn't really feel bad about it anymore. (Not that I did in the first place.)

"What happened to you?" I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. However I was quite curious, and hoped he'd answer my question.

He smiled at me, the kind of smile old people smile. You know, the ones where there lips twitch a bit as if it's difficult to hold it, but it's genuine non-the-less? That kind.

"Heh...you really want to know?" he inquired. (Inquired: to ask a question or questions, past tense. That's right, I am no...ingrate...wait that says ungrateful...uhh...inhuman...well I am human so I'll go with that...yes...I am no inhuman fool! I know big words! Or at least I know how to use the "in" section of the dictionary...still...Arthur seems impressed I actually know HOW to use a dictionary...I mean jeez! That's just... inglorious!)

I nodded, and he smirked. I was a bit scared, but even more curious. What if he was a criminal who robbed banks? Or a murderer who killed boys named Alfred? Or-Or...OR A MUTANT SPACE CREATURE WITH TENTACLES HIDDEN IN HIS STOMACH? Alright maybe the first one was going out on a limb, but the second two seem to happen all the time!

"Heh, I jumped off a building, dressed as Super Man. That crazy enough for ya?" he said, sounding a bit cocky. I simply gaped. One part of me thought, "THIS GUY IS NUTS!" another thought, "That sounds kinda cool..."

"W-Why?" was the smartest response I could muster, confusion and curiosity evident in my voice.

He laughed. "Kid, look at me. I'm eighty five years old. My wife died a few years ago, and two best friends years in between that, my kids are grown up and have probably forgotten me, and what have I done with my life so far? I was an attorney's assistant in Heathrow, and that's about it. Never did ANYTHING I always dreamed of doing. I love my wife, my kids, and my friends, but as far as dreams go, they went down the toilet for money."

I blinked, shocked, and a bit piteous of the man. "Well what did you want to do..?" I asked, wondering what his dream that "went down the toilet" was. I hope for his sake it didn't go down a _used_ toilet, cause that would be kinda gross.

He smiled, a sad sad smile, the kinds that make flowers wither and wolves howl at night. "I wanted to be a Superhero."

And thus, I died. THE END!

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an overstatement.

My mouth did, however, gape open large enough to fit a subway into it, and for some reason it felt like someone just slapped me in the face and went, "Mhhmmm."

"S-S-Superhero...?" I stuttered.

The man, once again, laughed and merely nodded. "You must think I'm crazy...but it wasn't just some fantasy I had when I was five years old. Noo... I truly wanted to be a hero, some sort at least, and be able to save people, to protect them from whatever danger that the world decided to dish out." Well damn, I just wanted to do it to be awesome... "But alas, there are no "superheroes" in the real world. And if you say the police force or firefighting, believe me, I tried. Unfortunately, I lost the will to go through the school and risk my life and...I decided to become an attorney..but ended up with attorney's assistant. And believe me, it was nothing exciting. Instead of saving peoples lives I sued them."

I frowned. It was like someone punched me in the gut, though I wasn't really sure why...well...maybe I do know why...

All my life I've been going on about how I was going to be the hero and save everyone, it had always been hero-this, hero-that, but I had never really DONE anything about it. I somehow expected to wake up one day with some amazing power, to find myself lifting cars or flying high into the heavens, but alas, I'm like...normal... And normal just isn't heroic.

"So that's why I jumped," he continued, "I figured, why not? I'm old, have nothing to lose, and believe me, it'd be one hell of a way to go out. But..I'm not dead yet...I'm in a hospital bed..."

My frown deepened. "Well, it's not worth dying over dude! If you like, try really hard, maybe you can still be a hero!"

He gave me a sad look, and said, "It's too late now kid. Sooner 'er later I'm just going to wither up and die..."

How anyone, old or not, could give up such hope was beyond me. So what if he didn't have powers, huh? He could still be awesome and kick ass!

And that's when it dawned on me.

You don't NEED superpowers to be a superhero.

You can very well kick ass in a colorful costume without the ability to fly! You can lift a car off the ground with just your own muscle if you work out a lot! Everyone has some sorda power, even if it is just small scale! So why hasn't anyone ever TRIED to be a super hero?

And why does someone else need to do it? Why not...me! If I could be the world first true superhero, if I really did save people, then maybe, just maybe people would finally recognize my totally awesome hero-ness! Maybe I WOULD get my own TV show, hell, maybe I could _endorse_ McDonald's. And I realized right then that I didn't just want this for the fame, maybe I could really SAVE people and make them all happy and stuff! To be a truly awesome hero.

I wanted to spin. To get up and sing and dance. To hug the injured man in the bed close to mine. The fact that maybe I, THE ONE, THE ONLY, ALFRED F. JONES, could still be a true superhero made me so happy..just in the thought. Yes, I **would** save the world.

I turned towards the man, to tell him my awesome plan, only to see he had fallen asleep, wrinkled face calm, and breathing softened. Listening to steady beeping of his heart monitor and the faster beeping of my own (Don't ask me why mine is fast, I guess my heart just beats faster or something? It must have something to do with all the coffee I drink...) nearly lulled me to sleep, or maybe it was the nurse coming in to give me more painkillers. Ahh painkillers~ How I loveth thou~ (Fuu~ And Arthur says I don't know Shakespeer. Shakespeir. Shakespear? What's-his-face-with-the-beard-and-funny-clothes. And by that I do not mean Francis.)

Soon enough, I fell asleep. I wonder what time it is anyways?

* * *

When I awoke I heard two very familiar voices, muffled behind a door. One of them softer with a Canadian accent, whose name I can not place to the voice at the moment, and the other, a bit deeper and scratchier, accented with lots of British-ness. (Yes, British-ness. It had ought' to be a word so I'm using it anyways.) I knew right away the second voice belonged to Arthur Kirkland, by the evident annoyance and smart-ass tone to it. I listened closer so I could just make out what they were saying through the door.

"Cor, blimey! That's a load of cobblers, that is!" (PS: Don't ask me what that means in English, for I have no clue. Something about...pie? Cobbler=Peach Cobbler=Pie?)

"I'm sorry sir, but visiting hours aren't until another 45 minutes, not to mention the fact it's relatives only."

Arthur scoffed. "What sort of bollocks is that? The lad's only true "family" is Matthew here, and his adoptive (yeah, adoptive, more on that later...) parents shipped him off too boarding school! I think you need to update your bloody definition of "family"!"

The nurse sighed, sounding as if she had repeated herself a few times already. "I'm _sorry_ Mr. Kirkland but the rules are the rules. Mr. Willaim's here may go in once visiting hours begin, but you will simply have to wait outside."

Arthur, however, being his persistent (more like plain old stubborn-as-a-mule-with-a-stick-up-its-ass) self wouldn't back down. "You see here! I will have NONE of this doolally, and if you wish to remain here at this low class hospital you had best let me in when I bloody well feel like it!"

You could practically _hear_ the redness coming into his pale cheeks as he got angrier and angrier. If anything, this was good entertainment for this boring hospital. They really should put an Arthur in every hospital room, it would surely keep the patients entertained.

"Are you threatening my job, sir?" the nurse said, surprise and annoyance mixed into her flat voice. She's raising her eyebrow at him right now, I know she is...

"Nice to see even a halfwit can catch on to my words. Why yes, ma'am, I am. You see my uncle is the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and if I want someone fired, they are. So therefore I suggest you let me into that bleeding room, lest you wish to be the new waitress at some 2 star English PUB!" he said, a sort of "Don't-Fuck-With-Me-Bitch" sound in his voice. The nurse seemed unaltered by it though.

"Well, British royalty (Arthur: The Prime Minister is not royalty.) or not this is _America_, so therefore you have no authority in firing me, Mr. Kirkland." the nurse said, smannoyance (it's a new word I just made up! A portmanteau of smirky and annoyance! Isn't it heroically awesome?) heavy in her voice. I thought maybe at that Artie would get the message and back down, but who am I kidding, it _is _Arthur Kirkland after all.

"You don't think I have connections here too, muppet? (Isn't that a show? British words are so weird...) I'll have you know all I have to do is wave a bit of cash at your little boss, and then you can kiss your little job goodbye! So why don't you just belt up and shut it, slag!"

"Listen here you-"

"POPPYCOCK!" (The hell _is_ poppycock..? It sounds...wrong...)

"A-Arthur...b-be nice..." a small voice cut in. "P-Please just let him in, miss. He's really very worried about Alfred...and he's not going to cause a bother." (The nurse snorted, and I'll bet ya' five bucks Artie was glaring at her.)

"The rules are the rules."

"TO HELL WITH THE RULES!"

….I'm sorry but _what?_ Coming from you that's just so...so...oi...

"Please wait outside."

"I'm going in whether you like it or not, hag."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"YESS!

"...No."

"YEEEESSSSSS!" I think at this point the British boy was having a tantrum.

"No.

"NO MY ARSE, I WANT IN! HELP ME OUT HERE MATTHEW!"

"P-Please ma'am, we'll stop causing trouble if you just-"

"No~"

"!" Arthur's voice started to raise a few notches, became a bit whiny, and made his gender sound just a bit questionable.

"...Okay."

"Really?" He sounded happy.

"No."

"...Damn you, I don't care what you say, I'm going in anyways!" he said, and it sounded like he stomped past the nurse.

"SECURITY!"

"SOD OFF!"

I then heard shuffling, banging, a burly mans voice, Arthur's yelling, more burly voices, a sadistic little chuckle from the nurse, Matthew trying to talk to the burly men whom I assumed were the security guards, and well...if chaos had a sound, I'd bet that that was it.

"UNHAND ME YOU BRUTES! I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW YOU'LL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYEERRRRRRR!" It was usually very much below Arthur to act this childish...so this was very very funny...I was near pissing myself laughing so hard, when I decided it was time to step in. After all, a hero can't let his friends suffer when all they wanted to do was come and see his awesome heroic-ness in person.

I beeped the little nurses button to page the nurse, she came running in, security guards in tow, along with a frazzled looking Matthew and a pissed off looking Arthur in one of the security guards arms.

"ALFRED! S-SAVE ME FROM THESE SAVAGES! TELL THEM TO LET ME IN!" He yelled, it was a rare occasion Arthur actually ASKED for my help, nevertheless, I decided to have fun with this.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked, blinking my eyes innocently in an honest-looking, confused gesture. The security guard glared at Arthur, looking like he'd just LOVE to throw him out the hospital window, while Arthur gaped at me, face visibly (miraculously) somehow paled, at a loss of words, just spluttering broken syllables.

"B-But...I-I...Y-You...H-How...P-Please...B-Bloody...Huh?" he said, emerald green eyes large and fearful as the large security guard look like he was seriously considering tossing his little ass outta the window.

"I'm not sure we've met before, are you friends with Matthew?" I said, putting on a sweet little smile. It was hard not to burst out laughing then and there, but I somehow managed. I'm not a very good actor, but this was just too funny to screw up on.

"OH COME ON ALFRED! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS? ALLLLLLLFFFFRRRREEEEDDDDD!" he yelled, on the bridge of hysterics. "THEY'RE GONNA HANG MEEEEEEE! TELL THEM TO LET ME INNN!"

"What's the magic word~?" I sang, taking full enjoyment in the Brit's pain. (Wow, that sounds kinda mean when I say it...oh well~!)

"..." he grimaced, as if the words themselves burned his tongue. I looked at him, expectantly.

"Weeeellllll?" I asked, wondering if maybe he'd just decide it wasn't worth injuring his pride (as if it mattered at this point) any more than it already had been, but alas he grumbled a quiet little, "P-please..."

"What was that, I couldn't heeaaarrr yooouuu~~~!" I said, smirking at the ferocious glare he shot me. It's so much fun messing with him, it really is. You should try it some time.

"PLEASE! ALRIGHT? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME STAY YOU STUPID BLOODY GIT BEFORE I BREAK YOUR OTHER LEG RIGHT IN HALF!" He seethed, and I couldn't help but let out all the laughter that had been building up. "I-It's alright everyone...j-just let him stay..." I said, in between breaths, trying to control the loud laughing. Arthur just shot me an annoyed, rage filled glance, gave the same look to the security guard who reluctantly put him down. He then fixed his shirt, crossed his arms, and pulled out one of the chairs lining the wall near the hospital bed to sit down in.

"Stupid bloody American gits.." I heard him hiss, beneath his breath. I laughed a bit more at this, and waved off the nurse and the security, who left, all seeming relatively annoyed themselves.

So that left me, Mr. Angry-British-Guy, and Mattie alone in the room together, Mattie looking rather embarrassed by the whole problem, and Arthur just fuming with rage.

"How are you feeling, Alfred?" Matthew asked, voice filled with concern. I crossed my hands behind my head and leaned back a bit, before answering.

"Well..ya' know...I just kinda got crushed by a snow plot and all..fractured mah leg...got some of my hair cut off and a head injury...but ya' know...other than that I'm great!" I said, being jokingly sarcastic. Unlike most people think, I DO know how to use sarcasm I'm just...not very good at recognizing it all the time.

Matthew pouted, and whispered a, "Point taken..." and I suddenly felt a little bad. However, then Arthur spoke up.

"...You're stupid, you know that right..." he said, though for once it didn't sound annoyed, it sounded...I dunno...maybe worried? But Arthur wouldn't be worried over this...would he? Huh...weird...

I didn't really think about that aspect too much though, more or less the words.

"Gee, thanks. After all of this THAT'S the first thing you say to me. Real comforting Artie." I said, half glaring half chuckling. It would have been nice to have just a LITTLE sympathy from him, but then again, it's not like I expected any less.

What I didn't expect was the next thing he said.

"Sorry...it's just...you could have been killed...Alfred..._KILLED!_" he exclaimed, lifting his head up to reveal an extremely worried look in his emerald eyes.

"But I wasn't~ You see, I'm so amazing and heroic not even DEATH defeats me, man!" I smirked, feeling proud at how awesome I was. I was however, met with a darkened glare from the boy, which, had I been standing, would have made me "double back". It sounds like a double back should be on a football team though, so that's kinda a weird term..

"This is all some big joke to you, isn't it? Sure you didn't die..._this time._ But if you keep sodding around with fate, you won't be so very lucky, Alfred! So I suggest you just..get your head out of your arse a-and just..be more careful!"

My grin faded a bit, though I refused to let it completely disappear. "I get it dude...I know this is kinda a big deal, but I don't want it to be, okay? I'm fine, so therefore you don't need to like, have a cow."

Arthur just sighed and rolled his eyes, and Matthew shot me an expression of pure worry. I frowned, why did they always have to be so negative, then remembering my little discovery from earlier, smiled. Ahh yes, becoming a superhero, how could I forget!

As I was about to tell them my awesome plan, I stopped, suddenly feeling like I had forgotten something. (And not Matthew, for once.) Ever since I had woken up today I hadn't been able to talk to...

...wait what?

I looked over at the bed that was next to me, only to find it was empty! No wonder the old man I had talked to the other night had been so quiet today, he wasn't even there!

Arthur and Matthew must have noticed the "What-The-Fuck?"-ness in my expression, and sent me questioning looks. (As if to ask, "What the fuck ((or in Arthur's case, bloody fuck)) are you What the Fucking Over?")

"THE DUDE DISAPPEARED!" I exclaimed. Their returning WTF looks began to emphazise..er empahzise... EM-FA-SIZE the F more than before.

"THERE WAS A-A GUY! HERE LAST NIGHT! HE WANTED TO BE A SUPER HERO AND HE-HE INSPIRED ME AND-AND HE LIKE WANTED TO DIE A-A-AND...THE HELL?"

"Alfred...you're in a private room...no one else could have come in here..." Arthur said, looking at me like I had lost my mind.

"B-B-But...I...he...my head hurts." I whined. Arthur sighed, still confused-looking, but came over to the side of my bed to inspect the bandages on my head. I pouted, confused, and I had been confused to much today for my own liking, and I suddenly really wanted to be out of the hospital.

"Maybe you need a bit of rest, Al." Matthew said, giving me a gentle look. I couldn't think of anything to reply with, so I simply nodded. Arthur seemed satisfied with the inspection of the gauze on my head, and simply fluffed the pillow I had beneath it.

"I'll get you some food..." he murmured, and I nodded, again. "For now just, sleep..Come on Matthew."

Matthew and Arthur left my room, and I sighed, their absence suddenly making the place seem more depressing. Oh well, the nurse said I'd only be here for a few more days, so I may as well just deal with it.

I really did want to know what happened to that old man though. And why I still hadn't gotten my ice cream...

* * *

**A/N: More plot and less Alfred-drabble in this chapter! Though maybe it was excessively long, sorry if it became boring. ;3;** **Now that the plot has been pretty much set up though, things will start to get more interesting next chapter~! Tune in~ 3**

**Oh, and I WILL explain the family situation for everyone at some point. It just seems kinda sorda...outta place right now.**

**Oh, and by the way, I know how to spell emphasized. I was just having a moment of pure idiocy when trying to type that and decided it would be fitting for Alfred to keep it their. And all other grammatical errors in this were on purpose, I do know how to use proper speech. But that wouldn't be very much like Al, now would it~ **

I was, however, at a loss for um...simpler synonyms for a lot of words Alfred was using so...let's just say he had both a dictionary and thesaurus at hand while writing this. And an Arthur to occasionally nag him over his shoulder glancing at the screen. :3

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, I would be a 19 year old man in art school with a lot of money.


End file.
